


One Good Thing

by mongoose_bite



Series: Dyce the Incredibly Easy Breton [10]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:44:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mongoose_bite/pseuds/mongoose_bite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hadvar is having a bad day, although his new friend arguably is having a worse one. Luckily, there is one good thing at the end of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Good Thing

It was those eyes that started it, wide blue and pleading, full of promise. His lips were slightly parted. It was like a slap in the face; Hadvar would never, ever, take advantage of someone like that. The man just wanted to save his neck. Nevertheless, he felt guilt squirm in his gut as well, because if that look had been for real-

Yes, instant attraction to a man minutes away from getting his head chopped off. Well done, Hadvar.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say, sincerely as he could, when the captain decided not to show mercy. He got a wry, unhappy smile for his troubles. For a day that promised to finally end the war, it hadn’t started well.

And then it got worse. A dragon, of all things. Hadvar fell back on his training, trying to rally the troops and protect the civilians while his instincts were telling him to turn tail and run. He saw the prisoner again, hands still bound, wide eyed and stumbling and coughing in the smoke. Hadvar dragged him along.

He got a better look at him when they were inside the keep, catching their breath. Hadvar’s initial attraction didn’t fade when he cupped the Breton’s hands to cut his bonds. The ex-prisoner groaned and rubbed his wrists, trying to work circulation back into his hands.

“That is much better,” he said. Hadvar wanted to hear that noise again. He suggested his new companion arm himself instead.

This day was going from bad to worse; Hadvar knew Helgen was lost; the dragon had reduced it to rubble. All he could do now was escape and report back to the General. What did this mean for the war? Had the dragon _rescued_ Ulfric? These and other thoughts occupied his mind until he heard a quiet noise and turned to see the breton drop Imperial armour over his shoulders. Hadvar only caught a glimpse of a pale back but somehow that was worse.

“What?” he asked, noticing Hadvar staring.

“That really suits you,” Hadvar said.

“Oh, very funny.”

Hadvar had meant it. The idea of training exercises in the wilderness got a lot more appealing with the Breton in the bedroll next to his- okay, his imagination was definitely getting away from him.

Hadvar’s hopes that they could come to a truce with the Stormcloaks who were also escaping were dashed, but the Breton turned out to be a surprisingly vicious fighter; he swung a sword like one born to it, but Hadvar was sure his style had come of no official training.

Hadvar hung back and shot arrows; the better to watch his companion move.

The Breton put his hand over Hadvar’s mouth when they spotted the bear. “I know,” he whispered in his ear. “I see it.” When he moved away again, Hadvar licked his lips.

And they were out! Sunshine and fresh air and the copper gleam of the Breton’s hair and the way he threw his head back to bask in the sunlight; Hadvar blinked, dazzled. And then he saw the dragon coiling over the mountain and he grabbed the man’s wrist and hauled them both down behind a boulder, the Breton stumbling into his arms.

They stayed there as the dragon flew overhead, holding their breath. Hadvar felt the Breton sag with relief when it had gone.

“I’m going to Riverwood,” Hadvar said. He should probably let him go at some point. “I have an uncle there.” Yep, any second now. “We can get supplies and recover there.” This was getting a bit awkward, definitely.

“Sounds good.” The man’s voice brought Hadvar back to his senses and he released the Breton, who gave him a funny look.

“How could you do that?” Hadvar asked. “When we first met, when you...” Stared at me like you were starving. When you promised me everything with your eyes. How did you _do_ that? “Looked at me like that,” Hadvar mumbled.

“I didn’t want to die,” the Breton said. “Besides,” a grin, “I would probably have enjoyed it.”

Riverwood was quite close. Hadvar was almost sorry; he did his best to introduce Skyrim to his friend, in as few words as possible. When they found the standing stones, the Breton placed his hands on the Thief.

“It’s never too late to change,” Hadvar said.

“What makes you think I regret what I am, and anything I do?”

A dangerous man, quick with a blade and quick with his fingers then.

“You could join the Legion. We could use someone like you. Now more than ever.”

“No. This isn’t my fight. I’m not willing to die for either side in this. Besides, I do not have the legs for this skirt. All pale, knobbly knees. Not like you; yours are like tree trunks.”

He was clearly being kidded, but Hadvar flushed anyway. “I think your legs are fine,” he muttered.

In Riverwood, Hadvar introduced him as a friend; Dyce of Nowhere in Particular. His uncle took them in and heard their story. Dyce volunteered to take the news to Whiterun, and that was a relief, even as Hadvar knew they’d soon be parting.

But I barely know you. He’d seen him look death in the eye, he’d seen him kill, he’d seen him grin. And now he watched him put his head on the table as Alvor and his family went back to work.

“Today has not been a good day, all things considered,” Dyce said.

They were alone. Hadvar could hear his uncle’s footsteps on the floorboards as he walked back to his forge.

“There was one good thing,” Hadvar said.

“Oh, what was that?” Dyce raised his head and Hadvar bent down and kissed him. It was meant to be a question, not a demand, but Dyce didn’t pull away, and Hadvar found himself riding a surge of hormones and thank-Divines-we-didn’t-die and he was sliding his tongue across Dyce’s and he heard a whimpering sound that he realised was coming from his own throat.

“Yeah,” Dyce breathed, when he had space to breathe. He smiled. Hadvar wrapped his arms around him and hauled him out of the seat. He hoped Dyce could see the appeal of Imperial ‘skirts’ now. His cock was lifting his off his knees; not bad when you considered they were heavy armoured leather, but with Dyce biting at his lips and his bare leg between his own, Hadvar’d be able to make a tent in full plate.

They stumbled backwards, Hadvar crushing Dyce against him, the smaller man just as hungry as he was.

“What do you want?” Dyce asked.

“I don’t know,” Hadvar mumbled. “You. Everything. Whatever you want.”

Dyce looked at him from under his hair, and Hadvar was lost in those eyes again. “I’d like to suck your cock, if it’s all the same to you, Soldier.”

“Please,” Hadvar said, already fumbling with his armour, pulling the strips of leather up over his cock. Dyce dropped to his knees and yanked down Hadvar’s smalls.

He grinned, “First Nord in Nordland.”

“It’s called Ssskyrimm...” Hadvar felt his knees go weak as Dyce slid his lips around the head of his cock. Dyce hummed and worked his hand around the base of Hadvar’s cock.

He pulled his head back and Hadvar’s cock sprang free of his mouth with a soft pop, “The portion sizes leave nothing to be desired,” Dyce said, and bent his head again. Hadvar’s head lolled back against the wall as he petted Dyce’s hair.

“Wait,” he said weakly. Dyce made a questioning sound and paused. “I want yours as well.”

Dyce scratched his head, “Okay. You’re going to have to lie down.”

Hadvar looked around the room; he really didn’t want to defile his uncle’s house, but it was far, far too late to go to the inn now. Eventually he stretched out on a woven rug near the fire, and gazed up Dyce’s skirt as he got to his feet and walked over.

“Mmm.” Dyce smiled. And walked over to plant one foot on either side of Hadvar’s head. Okay, while he’d been stuffing about looking for somewhere to lie down, Dyce had removed his smalls. That was quite a view. Hadvar was quite sure he was going to see it in the future, when he closed his eyes, cock in hand.

Hadvar ran his hands up Dyce’s legs as far as he could reach. Dyce chuckled.

Dyce knelt down and then got on his hands and knees as they shuffled around and Hadvar propped his head up rather uncomfortably on his boots and Dyce spread his legs further, lowering his cock towards Hadvar’s mouth. Hadvar reached up and grabbed Dyce’s arse, savouring the smooth skin under his blunt, calloused fingers.

Dyce was on his cock again, licking and sucking at it greedily, and Hadvar dropped his jaw to return the favour. It was awkward and Dyce’s torso was slightly shorter than would have made it more comfortable, and Hadvar let go of Dyce long enough to wipe the spit that trickled down his chin, and he could smell dust from his boots, or the floor.

And it was amazing. The harder he sucked on Dyce’s cock, the harder Dyce returned the favour. Hadvar had never been so hungry for it, so desperate. His neck was getting sore, but he didn’t care. Dyce was throwing his weight on Hadvar’s hips to try and keep him still and it didn’t work. He thrust upwards, desperately, his stomach flexing; Dyce couldn’t keep him down.

They were getting sloppy, desperate. Hadvar could hear Dyce panting around his cock, feel every muscle flex when Hadvar lifted his head to take more of him in. Hadvar’s neck was getting sore; he didn’t care. He could feel his orgasm approaching but he didn’t want to come first, he wanted to feel Dyce come first, wanted to hear him, wanted those hips to shake and judder, that cock to swell and-

And then Hadvar was hanging on for dear life and holding his breath as Dyce thrust himself hard into his mouth, his cock jabbing at his tongue and then sliding past it. Hadvar squeezed his eyes shut and suppressed a cough as Dyce filled his mouth with seed. He felt some trickle out the corner of his mouth, hot and slippery and he opened his eyes with a muffled sound and Dyce sucked hard as Hadvar came, and swallowed, and was still coming, another spurt.

Hadvar coughed, and tried to lick his lips, although Dyce’s cock was getting in the way. The day didn’t turn out to be so bad after all, he thought.

“Are you all right?” Dyce rolled off him to the side, looking somewhat pleased with himself. Tired too.

“I am just fine,” Hadvar said, and wondered what his uncle would think if he just went to sleep on the floor. He didn’t. He got to his feet and joined Dyce at the table for a meal, and Dyce said he wanted to press on to Whiterun sooner rather than later.

“I’d feel bad if the dragon came back before I got the message through.”

Hadvar wished him well, and told him the Legion would be open to him. A few days later he found Dyce’s smalls among his equipment. They didn’t fit him, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw them out, either.


End file.
